


Indulge

by edy



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Trench Era, Trench Leak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 09:57:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16195208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edy/pseuds/edy
Summary: Tyler knew that Josh knew, and Josh knew that Tyler knew.





	Indulge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RunTheConverse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunTheConverse/gifts).



> translation into русский available: [Потакание](https://ficbook.net/readfic/7416088) by [RunTheConverse](https://ficbook.net/authors/288286)
> 
> -
> 
> [ksenia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunTheConverse/pseuds/RunTheConverse) approached me after the livestream to tell me tyler's Mustard Hoodie reminded her of me, and when tyler said he'd been wearing it for a year and a half, it gave her "huge edy energy". along with that, when josh mentioned a sleepover, she could see me writing a small fic based on the stream… so… Here I Am, writing a small fic based on the stream.

Tyler knew that Josh knew, and Josh knew that Tyler knew. Speaking of it wasn't needed. They met in the kitchen of their rental home, Josh from the patio outside and Tyler from the bathroom, and all they shared was a brief flicker of their eyes, but that's all it took. They were each holding their respective phones, screens dark, but the backs of the devices warm to the touch. Twitter hid behind the dark screen, the little white bird almost a curse from how much it fluttered and seared itself into the inside of Tyler's eyelids. It's buried deep into his brain even now, nothing he can do to remove it. He's tried sitting on his phone, has even allowed Josh to sit on it for him, but his fingers were always adept at lurking on all corners of the internet.

"This was bound to happen," Tyler whispers, on the couch. He's curled into himself, arms around his knees, his phone balanced on his knees. The screen is lit up, and both he and Josh watch another white number fill that red circle on his mail app.

Tyler sighs.

They're in isolation. They locked all the doors, shut all the windows, and contacted their loved ones that they're going to  _do something_  about this. "Don't bother us," Tyler screamed into his phone's receiver, and hours later, he still couldn't bring himself to feel even an ounce of guilt.

"This was bound to happen," Tyler says.

Next to him, Josh says, "You've said that"—he consults his Apple watch—"fifteen times now."

"Well, I haven't given a shit"—Tyler consults his own Apple watch—"fifteen times now."

Josh runs his fingers up Tyler's leg, finger-stepping up Tyler's shin. "It's not—Tyler—" Josh never finishes. He props his head up on his arm, on the back of the couch, and pokes his fingertips up, up, up Tyler's leg, past the tube socks pulled up to his calves, weaving through the dark hair begging for Josh's fingers to stay, and finally, to Tyler's knees. On Tyler's knees, Tyler's phone screen blinks to life with another email and a text, and Josh's hand covers the screen as he swipes the phone and sits on it again, tucking it safely into his back pocket.

It won't work. It didn't work before, but Tyler applauds Josh for trying.

Tyler smiles, quiet, and Josh closes his eyes, smiling, too.

They didn't call it by name. Speaking of it gave it power. They cracked jokes as they cracked open Red Bulls and declared they will never sleep again.

But they're on the couch, too tired to move, too tired to think, and Josh is holding Tyler's knee and breathing slowly, deeply. The Red Bull cans line the kitchen counters, one by one, like a cavalry. Tyler's body still faintly hums.

He says, "Josh, what are we going to do?"

Despite his breathing inductive of sleep, Josh replies with no hesitation, "I'll tell them the truth on the stream thing tomorrow… today… whenever it happens." His eyes open. His eyes are alert.

"And what is the truth?" Tyler asks, eyebrow arching.

Josh squeezes Tyler's knee. "I'm not mad."

Tyler places his hand on top of Josh's. "I'm not mad either. I… I  _can't_  be mad at them. I tried, Josh. It makes me  _sick_  to even think about getting mad at them. I can't—"

"—then don't," Josh says, simple. "Don't hurt yourself, Tyler."

It isn't simple anymore.

They close their eyes at the same time.

They open their eyes at the same time.

"I'm scared," Tyler whispers. "I'm scared the album's going to—what do the kids say?— _flop_."

Josh pushes himself up, sitting, moving his legs, criss-cross applesauce. His hand falls from Tyler's knee, now curving in, holding the backs of Tyler's calves as he grips and pulls Tyler in close. Tyler squeals, a pathetic yelp, and welcomes the quick opportunity to sit in Josh's lap. His legs are awkward, pressing right into Josh's sternum, but Josh doesn't mind. He's gripping Tyler's hips. He's looking at Tyler and saying, "We can tell them that. We need them."

Tyler cradles the side of Josh's face. "I can say that. I'll say, 'I'm not mad.' No, like,  _dude_." Tyler chortles, a high-pitched giggle. "Not, like, 'I'm not mad', but 'I'm a  _little_  mad' or  _something_  because I  _am_  a little mad. It's not because of them, though. It's because of whoever did this to us. It's because of the damn stores who put Clifford on their shelves when it wasn't even October fifth yet!" Tyler brings his other hand to the other side of Josh's face, the cradle more of a cup, more intense than soft—but it's still soft. Tyler's thumbs are stroking Josh's skin every chance he gets as he leans in, forehead to Josh's forehead and says, "October fifth, Josh. The record's out October fifth, and they were already selling it in stores when it wasn't even October fifth _and_ when we didn't even have a physical copy of the little guy for ourselves."

"October fifth," Josh says.

Lips twitching, Tyler quips, " _Ish_ ," and Josh slides his lips against Tyler's and welcomes Tyler's laugh passing to his mouth. Tyler's laughing, and he pushes himself closer, as close as he can get, and he kisses Josh's tongue, Josh's top lip. Tyler lingers there. No teeth, just a slow suction, Tyler only pulls away to tell Josh, "And then, I can go get the CD I  _just got_  and  _show them_. And I'll… I'll… Josh, how am I gonna keep a straight face?"

"Don't," Josh says.

With Josh's hands parting his legs and tugging on the front of his mustard hoodie, Tyler moves his hands to the back of Josh's head. The curls, he wants the curls; he's so impatient.

He can't be mad.

Tyler presses a kiss to Josh's chin, and Josh gives him one on his nose. Josh gives him two kisses on his nose.

And then, Josh lifts him, standing from the couch, and Tyler knows Josh is strong, but he still stands on the tips of his toes and attempts to walk to the bedroom. Josh's arms are warm around him, one around his waist, another right below his ass. In a way, he's sitting on Josh, and Josh, Josh is smiling as he takes Tyler to the bedroom, tosses Tyler onto the bed, and says, "Keep on this hoodie. Tell them how long you've been wearing it."

Spread-eagled when he stretches, Tyler says, "A year and a half," and Josh kicks off his jeans and crawls on top of Tyler.

"I'll say how embarrassed I am," Josh starts, breathing into the crook of Tyler's neck as he kisses and bites Tyler's skin, Tyler's shoulder, Tyler's mustard sweatshirt. "I'm not embarrassed because of the leak. I'm embarrassed because I  _haven't even listened to the record yet_."

Tyler throws his arm over his eyes. "Oh, Josh," he sighs, "tell me  _more_."

Josh kisses Tyler's throat. "I'll let  _you_  do all the talking."

At the top of his lungs, Tyler moans. " _Joshua_." And he kisses Josh, laughing again, wrapping his legs around Josh's waist, hugging Josh, kissing Josh over and over and over again.

They fight over who gets to be the big spoon tonight, eventually settling on Tyler's chest to Josh's back, with the promise that Josh can protect Tyler in the streets, but Tyler's allowed that luxury in the sheets.

But when the sun begins peeking through the curtains, Josh takes the role of protector once again. Tyler keeps his face in Josh's chest, his hand over Josh's heart, and he says, "We should call it 'the  _L_  word' with them, too."

Josh rubs the top of Tyler's head.

"We need to act like we're taking questions, though. We're promoting the album."

"Be our hype man," Josh says.

"I'm so scared," Tyler says.

Lips to the top of Tyler's head, Tyler can almost feel the weight of Josh's lips try to shove love and positivity straight through and into his skull. "Ty, they  _love_  it. The ones who listened to it… they love it. You should have seen all the nice things they were saying."

Tyler's fingers curl into a fist. "I know. I saw. I'm still scared."

Josh kisses Tyler's eyebrow. "Do you want to get up now?"

But Tyler shakes his head, and Josh holds him tighter, and they sleep. They sleep, and they dream of only things crafted with callused hands and the shine of the sun.

When they wake up, they lie side by side, palms pressed together, eyebags heavy and anxiety weightless. "Are we late?" Tyler asks, lacing his fingers through Josh's fingers. He squeezes.

Squeezing right back, as always and as expected, Josh shrugs. "I need to brush my teeth." He's tired. Tyler is tired, too.

"Wait,  _tell them that_."

Josh decides to do the stream outside. "The natural lens flare," he says. "No filter needed." Tyler trusts him.

So, Josh sits, and Tyler stands over Josh to watch him tap, tap, tap onto Instagram.

Tyler pulls Josh's hat from his head, kisses his hair, and then carefully returns the hat to its rightful place. He rubs Josh's back. He says, "I can't keep still."

"That's okay," Josh tells him, and Tyler nods. He nods again, and then a third time.

"Are we ready?" Josh's thumb hovers.

Hesitant, sliding his feet, slow, anxious,  _happy_ , Tyler asks Josh, "Is 'indulge' a good word to use here?"

Over his shoulder, Josh throws back a smile. "Yeah, dude.  _Indulge_. That's so good." Turning around again, holding his phone just so, Josh taps.

Smiling, too, smiling a smile reserved only for the people he cares about, Tyler throws his hands up in the air and screams at the top of his lungs, " _October fifth_."

Josh laughs, in love, and begins the stream.

**Author's Note:**

> buy _trench_ on itunes. stream _trench_. listen to _trench_. promote the fuck out of _trench_.
> 
> let clifford into your world. just look at him. he's so cute.


End file.
